"seraphine" poems
I turned the corner, entering the Italian sculpture collection at Le Louvre, delighting in the smells and quiet sounds of the museum. I walked slowly down the creaking wood floored corridor, ignoring the Dirce, the Nymph and the Scorpion, till I came to Antonio Canova’s Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.
I gazed at it lazily, longingly, savoring its sensuality, love, and tenderness. It was beautiful, beyond belief, exquisite. It evoked so many emotions, to the point of being overwhelming. I stared at it, losing myself, in time and reverie, wishing I could love and be loved with such intensity.
“It’s beautiful, “I heard a feminine whisper in my ear. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. “Yes,” I replied, slowly, instinctively, coming out of my trance, and turning towards the voice.
Our eyes met, locked, I couldn’t look away, as if bewitched, her incandescent blue eyes fathomless, tender, worldly, looking, seeing deep into my soul. I could feel her in me, like a new born kitten exploring every nook and cranny. It was slightly unnerving, knowing she could wander, at will, unfettered, and yet calming, even comforting.
As I regained my sense, I recognized her and stared, incredulously, until she said, softly, sweetly, “je m’appelle Seraphine.”
She moved in a bit closer, cocking her head towards my right ear, and whispered, “It is my favorite, it's so tender and passionate, the way he holds her, kisses her, the way only a god could.” I noted her tone, the way she said it, with such confidence, as if she knew, from experience, what it was like, to be kissed, loved, by a god.
She gently pulled back a bit, looked me in the eyes, like a child looking at a puppy. She was beautiful, preternaturally beautiful, a paragon, goddess like. I just stared at her in awe.
“I think we’ve seen each other around Paris”, she said softly, smiling, “and may have bumped into each other in the Metro.” “Yes, I think we have,” I replied, as she extended her right hand, as a queen would, to a knight. I didn’t know if I should kneel and kiss her hand, or shake it. I took her hand in mine, it was soft, warm, moist. I could feel her youth, femininity, life in her hand. I shook it, gently, stopped, slightly released my grip, our hands slid apart, touching, sliding, caressing down our fingers, stopping ever so slightly at the tips, before releasing. The ecstasy of her touch. I longed for more. I heard her sigh, my eyes moved from her hand, to her lips, finally to her eyes. I smiled and said, almost in a whisper, “Je m’appelle Damien.”
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
Seraphine wields her dagger like a torch
to illuminate her path—a figure at once
youthful and monolithic. Mother Earth
caresses her as flowers bloom amidst
the bloodbath. the old skulls of dead
fascists rest in silver platters. three arrows
plunged into the hearts of charlatans,
an Iron Front, disrupting decorum.
the celosia petals burn like a bonfire
around Seraphine as her nāgī coils
like an ouroboros, slyly smirking.
Seraphine works the blade back and forth,
sawing through the Nazi's neck, smiling
while decapitating the demagogue.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
My sweet Seraphine,
What have you done
They labeled you a monster
So is that what you’ve become?
I knew your heart was fragile
But it wasn’t made of glass
The icy chill that froze your soul
Surely cannot last
They dimmed the light inside you
When they ****** you to this place
But the flame that burns inside you
Could never be contained
My sweet Seraphine,
In the darkness of the night
The stars will guide you home
For they will be your light
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 3:38 PM UTC
In the unification of all that ends
In the unification of all that begins
Our fates will be tied
And thus the fate of all mortals in the Swirled Cosmos
Shall follow this.
In death
A second chance.
In life
A new path.
Our love will spell out
An infinite stream
Of choices
Of decisions
Of chances
And when a mortal soul falls
And has met the criteria
I shall send it off to your embrace
In hopes it shall receive a finer chance
Under our divine dance.
May 22, 2024
May 22, 2024 at 7:45 PM UTC
I see you in my sleep
Entwined in blackened rhythms,
I see you standing right in front of me
Then darkness grabs you quick
And I am drowning in a black sea,
I see you in my dreams
Left thoughtless to images of stranger things
Is this what my mind imagines it to be like when you leave?
I see you when I sleep
When closed eyes leave no witness,
But always keep you right in front of me
And watch your life and body dissipate
Soon you are invisible
And I am drowning in a black sea,
I see you in my dreams
Listening to seraphine and metallic malaise
Whistles blowing sound like wind dancing through rain
This is where dark figures live
I dine with them as beasts
We dance at dusk together
And move on to grab each other
I let their hands move on my hips
And love the ways they grab my waist
Then darkness grabs us quick
And we are dancing in the black sea,
Swimming with our demons
And all of the men of my dreams
This is where dark figures eat
And quench the hungry beasts
I notice that they’re starving
And invite them to feed on me
Then darkness grabs me quick
And I am drowning in a black sea,
I look and he does not look at me
And I know, now, that I’m not sleeping
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 2:19 PM UTC
To show faith
well that is a real thing
I don't think it brings joy
not to all human thinking
But I don't judge them much
not as much as I did in the past
It was fun in the old days
to turn all that had no faith to dust
My name you could never appreciate
for the time you said it, it would be all too late
last time some mortal knew my name
Mmm ..well it took them three days to get it out
I am not a cherub
or a gossiping seraphine
I am a archangel
made by her for war
Trust me
do not test me
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 6:11 AM UTC